


The Calendar Tells a Story

by My_Alter_Ego



Series: White Collar Discussions [21]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Hope, Introspection, Loneliness, Post-Season/Series AU, Unveiling a Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22403326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Alter_Ego/pseuds/My_Alter_Ego
Summary: Maybe the most honest discussions are those that we have with ourselves. Sure, we can lie and color the pictures to our liking, but, in the intimate darkness of the night, our true self can suddenly become brutally frank when we take the protective blinders off. Neal finally faces the reality of what he must do. AU, post-series fiction.
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Series: White Collar Discussions [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1472945
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	The Calendar Tells a Story

The last minutes of the night were ticking down marking the end of another year in the life and times of Neal Caffrey. The young con man wasn’t in Times Square with a multitude of giddy revelers waiting for the iconic red apple to begin its descent. Nor had he been there on numerous other New Year’s Eves in a past that seemed to have played out in another lifetime. Tonight, he was all alone in his silent room, and, perhaps thanks to an exquisite St. Emilion Bordeaux, he found himself becoming introspective as he reminisced about bygone days.

Ironically, Neal realized that he seemed to mark time by the passing of holidays. That made him wonder if he was simply a cliched parody, like a naïve child who was anticipating Santa making an entrance down a chimney, or an Easter Bunny loading up his go-bag with colored eggs. On the flip side of the coin, maybe he was more like a tired old man, just thankful to have made it to another milestone in an empty life. Neal wasn’t quite sure where he fell on the spectrum, but it certainly was something to ponder. 

As Neal let his mind remember, he realized the New Year’s Eve that most haunted him was the one that had occurred years ago when Kate had been conspicuously absent. He had done something monumentally stupid, and the love of his life had left him without a backward glance. Neal had been heartbroken and knew that he had to find her to make amends, but she hadn’t made it easy. The lessons that he had taught Kate about going to ground had served her well, and the young woman had become a ghost that haunted Neal’s dreams.

Valentine’s Day in February—the most romantic day of the year—had found Neal beyond bereft and depressed. Back then, he was still alone with no lover to shower with ardent mea culpas and flowers. Later in the month, on Groundhog Day, Neal had even been reluctant to emerge from his burrow. He hadn’t wanted to see his shadow, a man named Special Agent Peter Burke. The guy had been like a Pitbull, tenacious and fierce, and he had made Neal’s day-to-day existence a perilous game of hide and seek.

March had ushered in St. Patrick’s Day. Neal’s mother had been Irish, but his inherited ethnicity hadn’t won him a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Instead, a very big leprechaun with an FBI shield had laid a trap for him. Mozzie had tried to warn an impetuous lover. “Beware the Ides of March, Neal,” he had intoned solemnly. “Remember, Julius Caesar was betrayed by Marc Antony and his cohorts. Kate is not above being just as duplicitous.”

Mardi Gras in April was the jumping off point for the season of Lent that ultimately culminated in the celebration of Easter. Neal had been doing his penance and wore his costume mask while incarcerated in Sing Sing. He had to hide his true self because he couldn’t allow his fellow inmates to see his fear, nor had he wanted to scare Kate away. She had finally come back into his life—well as much as she could while a glass partition separated them. But she had promised to wait, and that vow gave Neal hope as he marked off the little tic marks in his cell and x-ed out the holidays in his mind.

May was all about Mother’s Day, and Neal had often tried to remember a face from long ago. Perhaps, a young child’s mom had once been smiling and happy, but, at some point, all he could remember were the long sad days of her self-imposed isolation and the emptiness of his formative years sequestered in the WitSec program. Perhaps, he had also felt a bit guilty for abandoning someone whom he should have pitied and cared for during the ensuing years. Often maturity gave one a different perspective, but it had been too late to change the past.

Neal had never appreciated the significance of Father’s Day, the commemoration celebrated in June. Nothing about that holiday had ever pertained to a jaded son because he had no respect for a parent who cowardly took a powder while looking out for number one. If Neal’s mother had emotionally abandoned her only child, James Bennett had made it a physical reality, and that was something Neal had found reprehensible and cold.

Yankee Doodle Dandy and fireworks on the 4th of July! Neal had succeeded in igniting the sparkling rockets that soared across the New York skyline when he made his escape from Sing Sing. Of course, Peter Burke had rained on Neal’s parade, and the young felon had found himself back to square one. Neal had felt dejected, and he had been fearful that Kate was in danger and he was powerless to save her! Desperate times made for desperate measures, and Neal had been ready to take the plunge. It was uncharted territory, but what choice did he have? He had finally manipulated Peter Burke so that an unrepentant paroled felon became the FBI’s flunky.

Labor Day in September was aptly named. That holiday found Neal toiling away for his handler with very little appreciation for his efforts, which were sometimes quite dangerous to his health. He had known that Peter really didn’t trust him, and that was okay because Neal hadn’t deserved his faith. The young man had an agenda, and Burke and Company were a means to an end. Neal’s plan had been to bide his time, rescue his damsel in distress, then cut his leash leaving the FBI in the dust. There would be no impetuous missteps at that point. Neal had become older and wiser and, well, more Machiavellian, and remorse simply could not be a part of his new life with Kate.

All Hallows Eve at the end of October, the day when restless spirits roam in search of something just beyond their reach, had been quite suitable to Neal’s situation. He had felt so close to redemption and a new chance at life with his beloved. He had made a pact with a devil named Garrett Fowler, and that ghoul had effectively played Neal and destroyed Kate. After that, Neal had only dreamed about revenge.

A young criminal had given thanks at the end of a cold November, not for the turkey, stuffing, and cranberries, but for Peter’s dauntless efforts to get him sprung once again from prison. _“I’m fine, Peter. Sure, Buddy, I’ll stay on the straight and narrow,"_ Neal had vowed to his handler. That had all been lip service, or that’s what Neal had told himself. Yes, he had desired to avenge Kate, but, on the other hand, had he really wanted to irreparably destroy the tenuous bond with a truly good man? Life after that became knotty and convoluted, and dangerous complications had played out time and again over the years of their partnership. It was quite an old story now, stale and tasteless.

Neal sighed. He went to the window of his apartment and stared out at the backlit Eifel Tower, iconic and beautiful off in the distance. It was just a week past the holiday time of Noël in Paris, when families came together to seek warm comfort and a sense of being loved and treasured by the special people in their lives. Neal had never been into gift giving. Mozzie abhorred the tradition of Christmas presents, claiming they were just the vile product of greedy commercialism to insure a healthy profit margin on the company books. However, this time Neal had made an exception. He made sure that a special gift was sent and received. After all, Peter and Elizabeth deserved a good bottle of wine as well as knowing the truth. Maybe they might even thank him in person in the fast-approaching New Year. Neal got out a new calendar and drew a circle around all the holidays in the coming months. Maybe one of those dates could mark a new beginning in his empty life or, at least, put his feelings of guilty remorse to rest.


End file.
